


Tell You All About It

by nerdyydragon



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Ficlets [75]
Category: Kingsman (2014), Kingsman (2015), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Brief Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Gen, Harry Hart is Dead, Letters, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyydragon/pseuds/nerdyydragon
Summary: Eggsy writes. He works out the emotions that he doesn't think he can tell other people, and he tries to connect his old life to the one he's living. He writes to his family and friends, but mostly, he writes to Harry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer*: I just like to sit and play in Matthew Vaughn's sandbox.  
> Song-based: See You Again (Wiz Khalifa feat. Charlie Puth) from Furious 7

Every so often, Eggsy got in his car and drove out into the country, finding an abandoned pier and parking, sitting down on the ground against the front bumper with his head resting on the grill (he had tried sitting on the water’s edge, once. The call of the depths had almost been too strong, and ever since he kept his distance, watching the ocean from where it couldn’t get to him). Sometimes he brought a pack of cigarettes, other times a flask full of whatever struck his fancy. But he always brought his notebook - a worn, unlined leather book with heavy pages, the kind you would see in a nautical museum. He needed to get out of the city, away from the hustle and vibrancy of London. Kingsman had afforded him with a way to escape, and he took it whenever he needed to.

Today was one of those times. Taking a sip from his flask - brandy today, Harry would have been proud - Eggsy opened his notebook to a blank page. It wasn’t a journal per se, but it  _ was  _ a record of his thoughts. He wrote to people, living and dead, when he felt whatever was going on in his life was something they should know, even if he never got around to telling them. There were letters to both his mum and dad, Roxy and his little sister were in there somewhere; hell, even Merlin had an entry. But of the almost half of the pages he had filled thus far were letters to Harry.

_      It’s been almost two years since I started working for Kingsman. I always count training days, since that’s when it really started. I like to think I’ve integrated pretty well with my coworkers. Some of them you know, but we gained a fair few after that mess that Valentine caused. You would have laughed if you saw Merlin’s face, when he realized he was next in line to run the whole thing. We still don’t have one - a head, that is. I think he might still be hoping you’re going to come back, even after so long. So yeah, I think I get on well with near everyone I work with; they know what I had to do to earn my spot - your old chair - at the table, and if they give a rat’s ass about where I come from nobody’s said a word to my face. _

_      It’s still hard, though. Walking around the mansion and knowing that you saw all the thing’s I’m seeing with my own eyes, visited all the places I’m going. It’s strange, not having you here. Sometimes I wake up in the mornings and I don’t quite remember what I had for dinner the night before, because everything up until the moment I roll out of bed just seems like a dream, and I’m going to hear Dean yelling from the next room. Other times I remember everything in minute detail; what I ate for breakfast on the third day of my first trip to Venice, for example. Things that shouldn’t stick in my head. I wish you were here to listen to me tell you all this. It would be easier to have someone to talk to, and someone who could actually give their thoughts. _

Eggsy pulled his jacket tighter around him. It was chilly this time of year, the damp soaking so deep right into his bones that even as a Londoner he felt like he would never be warm again. He took another sip from his flask and tucked it back in it’s pocket, watching the waves crash against the rocks that jutted out next to the pier.

_      It feels like one long day, and you wouldn’t believe the one I’ve had. Mum’s met someone. Nice bloke. I did some digging into his past, and I haven’t come up with anything. He seems like he’s gonna treat her right, but I can’t help worrying, you know? She’s still my mum, after all. I think she worries about me, too, sometimes. With all the time I spend out in the middle of nowhere with a book I never show anyone, when I’m not flying off around the world at a moments notice doing things I can’t tell her for her own safety. Now there would be a nice person to talk to - my mum. She’s not mad at you anymore, you know. I reckon one of your biggest fears was Michelle Unwin, and her wrath at your taking not one but both of her boys. Well you don’t have to worry any longer, wherever you are. She forgives you; knows you’re just doing your job. She even said, that first night after you  _ ~~_ died  _ ~~ _ left for Kentucky when I was still shaken about the whole saving-the-world thing, that you didn’t deserve the end you got. That you really were a good bloke. And she’s right, I just wish you were here for us to say that to your face. _

_      One thing about this job, though? Right dangerous as hell. I can’t even count the times I’ve almost died on two hands anymore. But I think I understand now, when you said so long ago that this life was a thankless one. I’d like to give you one sincere bout of gratitude - if my life hadn’t been as shit as it was, had you not dragged my dad into this mess to begin with, I would never have met you. _

_      And that has to be about the best damn thing in my life that’s ever happened to me. I love you, I can’t stop it.  _ ~~_ I hate you for that. _ ~~

Eggsy took a breath and shut the cover of his notebook. He always got too emotional when things like that started to pour out in his letters to Harry. Maybe it was some strange, misguided sense of gratitude, but he always felt that there was something deeper. They just never had the time to explore what that might be. Eggsy watched the waves again, how they leaped over one another only to be destroyed against the rock. It reminded him of life, somehow. People travel so far only to one day meet with the end of their track. As if in conjunction with his mood, the cloudy sky opened up and rain began to fall. He’d catch his death, if he sat out here for too long, but Eggsy didn’t seem to care. He couldn’t make himself. He liked the rain. It was cleansing.

Over the sound of water that came from two different directions, Eggsy heard the roar of an engine and tires crunch over the gravel. He wasn’t always alone out here, and he by no means owned the space. Other people were free to come and go as they pleased. Eggsy didn’t think anything of it until the rain around him stopped falling, and he looked at the ground next to him to see a pair of oxfords polished within an inch of their life. He looked up, and met eyes he didn’t think he ever would again. Standing over him, holding an umbrella to keep him out of the freezing rain, was Harry Hart. Eggsy looked back at the water.

“You’re dead.”

“I am.” A hand reached into his line of vision, offering him leverage off of the hard ground.

“If I take that, will I die? Or are you just a figment of my imagination?” Not-Harry sighed.

“You can take my hand, Eggsy. Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean you have to be. You have a lot of life left to live.” Eggsy took the offered hand and was hauled to his feet, coming eye to eye with what his brain supplied as Harry. It looked like Harry. It talked like Harry, it even smelled faintly like him. Therefore it was Harry. He was shepherded into the driver’s side of his vehicle, notebook on the seat next to him and his flask now empty. “Don’t waste it loving someone who can’t be with you.” With a hesitant press of lips to his temple Not-Harry closed the car door and walked away. Eggsy watched him go in the side view mirror, looking for the vehicle he had arrived in. But when he turned to look out of the rear window, Harry was gone, and there was no trace that any other car but his had been up the drive. Slumping in his seat, Eggsy picked up his notebook, wondering how it had gotten in the car after he had dropped it. There was a note, tucked carefully between the pages on which he had just been writing, on greyed paper with red ink so dark it was nearly black.

_      Everything goes back to the sea, Eggsy. Time, life, people. Love. Love especially. So sit here all you like, but know that it is not your time to go. Not yet. Don’t test it. Please. But if it’s any consolation, know this: You will see me again. Your long day will be over, and we can sit and watch the sun rise and set and the stars change and the moon pull the waves until everything on this planet is no more. And you can tell me about it, every last second. I will sit and listen to your day, and then I will share with you mine. Until then, my love, my heart: live. _

Eggsy tossed the book onto the seat next to him, bit down on his fist, and let all of the tears he had been holding back for over a year and a half fall free. He had never truly mourned Harry. Well, he had, quietly. But any tears that he felt he should have cried never came, instead pushing him to do anything that would have made the man proud of him. But they came now, when he was curled up on the seat crying so hard he was shaking, so hard he couldn’t get a solid breath in, one arm wrapped around his knees and the other hand between his teeth. He choked back a scream, one like he hadn’t felt since he watched Harry slaughter the people in South Glade Mission Church, since he watched Richmond Valentine point a gun at Harry’s head and pull the trigger. He was alone, so he thought  _ to hell with it _ , and screamed anyway.


End file.
